Chapter Eight

T allulah raised her arms up over her head and absorbed the music, frothiness tickling the lining of her stomach, hips swiveling in an infinity pattern. God, she hadn’t been out in so long. Not like this. The kind of out where she lost track of time, every song was the best song and she felt free. Alive. Nothing holding her back. No rules to follow but her own.

A huge part of the reason she was comfortable in the moment was Chloe, who danced a handful of feet away in a sequined rose gold skirt and a white one-shoulder tank top, her blond hair in a riot of waves. They merged on the dance floor just as the next song came on, getting into an excited slap fight when it turned out to be yet another banger. The lighting pulsed blue around them, reminding Tallulah of the exact color the sun made when it rose in Antarctica and struck the ice for the first time in the morning. Just the purest electric blue that seemed almost out of place in nature.

“I miss that,” she murmured to herself, words instantly swallowed up by the pulsing music. Was it odd to be dancing in the middle of a crowd, reminiscing about her time in Antarctica? Thinking about her favorite penguin, Kirk, and missing the monstrous bite of cold that could rush suddenly at sixty miles per hour and eat straight through five layers of clothing? Yeah, it was slightly odd, but didn’t everyone on the dance floor miss something or someone?

That was life, wasn’t it? Making connections, bonding with people and places, then moving forward without them. Missing them. Carrying those influence around, sort of like layers of clothing. Her birthplace was one layer, her family another. Her best friend, Josephine. Antarctica. Now Boston. Sometimes it hurt to collect another layer, to make new friends and have new experiences when she still ached for the layers closest to her skin, but she would keep pursuing nights like this, because she’d made a promise to her sister.

She’d sworn she wouldn’t let the fear of tragedy keep her locked inside. Otherwise, she might as well still be trapped in that closet, watching Brett’s shadow move on the other side. She might have freed herself physically, but mentally? It had taken Tallulah four years to keep the promise she’d made to Lara. But here she was. At least she hadn’t broken it, right?

Tallulah danced, half enjoying herself, half melancholy to be in this unfamiliar place, entering a new phase in such a visceral way, her new grad school friends waving to her from the bar, Chloe taking her hands so they could spin in a laughing circle at the crescendo of the song, finally stumbling to a stop at the edge of the dance floor. The song that came on next was a slow one, an indication the club was probably getting ready for last call, filling Tallulah with a combination of disappointment and relief. She was having a great time with her new friends, but maybe when that inevitable melancholy started to eclipse her enjoyment, it was time to go home.

Home.

Where Burgess lived.

Her hot, single dad boss.

Orgasm Donor.

“You want one more?” Chloe yelled over the noise, pointing to the nearly empty amaretto sour in Tallulah’s hand. “It’s my round.”

“Sure. Last one.”

Chloe did a little shoulder shake and danced her way back through the crowd. Though everyone in the place was swarming the bar to get their last drink of the night, the bartender zeroed in on beaming-ball-of-light Chloe right away, drawn like a moth to a flame, making Tallulah laugh under her breath.

Tallulah approached the high top where the group had stationed themselves for the night, greeted by smiles from Finn, Tisha, and Evan, the final three remaining out of the six grad students who’d met at Down earlier in the night. Tallulah gave an exaggerated wince at the array of empty glasses and beer bottles on the table, making Finn laugh... and it was impossible not to notice the once-over he gave her as she added her empty glass to the collection. He straightened from his lean against the table and angled his body toward Tallulah.

And her stomach immediately drew in on itself.

Finn was good-looking. In his twenties. The clear overachiever type she encountered on a regular basis in the biology program. Medium height, wiry build, round gold-rimmed glasses, and shaggy brown hair. Hot science guy. Who wouldn’t be into him?

Orgasm Donor.

Tallulah inwardly winced. Such an appalling sweatshirt—and she believed Burgess when he said it didn’t belong to him. But something about the juxtaposition of this big, strong hockey player and the word “orgasm” wouldn’t stop punching her in the brain. Even while looking straight into the very earnest, very interested eyes of Finn.

I know how orgasms are donated.

You don’t know how I donate them.

I don’t think I’ll be finding out. Will I?

Your call, Tallulah.

A warm shiver snaked down her spine. What exactly had Burgess meant by that? Like he’d show her if she simply... asked? Her boss would donate her an orgasm?

Finn inched closer to Tallulah, distracting her from thoughts of the towering hockey player, and the fine layer of perspiration on her back hardened to ice, the loud music becoming muffled and distorted in her ears. This tended to happen when a man showed interest in her, and apparently tonight was going to be no exception. Although, she didn’t freeze up when Burgess got close, did she? No, just the opposite. She heated like a tea kettle. He had a way of approaching her at just the right pace, giving her room to stop... which only made her want more of her space invaded by him. This guy, however...

“I hope you’re as good a research partner as you are a dancer,” Finn said, close enough to her ear that his breath hit her neck.

Tallulah fought off a cringe. “Oh. Thanks.” She wanted to leave it at that, express her lack of interest right away and shut it down, but why ? When her internship in Antarctica had drawn to a close, one of the biologists had asked her to dinner and she’d said no without thinking. Even though he’d been perfectly nice, like Finn. Probably not a monster.

But was probably ever going to be good enough?

Tallulah wanted to meet someone. Or be open to meeting someone, at the very least. It had been a really long time since she’d experienced physical satisfaction with another person—undergrad? Really? —and she missed the anticipation, the excitement, the selfish, human act of going home with someone on a quest for pleasure. Not overthinking, just feeling .

Would she ever be capable of that again?

“You don’t dance?” she forced herself to ask Finn, while casually glancing over her shoulder to see if Chloe was on the way with their drinks.

Finn shrugged. “Maybe if the right girl asked me, I would...”

He raised an eyebrow, as if hoping for an invitation.

“Oh, um. I’m probably going to head home soon, actually,” Tallulah said. “Just going to have one more drink with Chloe.”

His smile remained glued. “Where is home?”

A sour taste spread in her mouth. “Beacon Hill.”

“I’m going in that direction, if you want to split a cab.”

The chill on her skin traveled inward. Splitting a cab shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? She’d be seeing a lot of this guy at school. Outside of school, too, since they were partners on an assignment. Probably end up on more nights out together. But what if he got out of the cab at her building and decided to walk her to the door? What if he sent the cab on its way? It was nearing one o’clock in the morning.

No one would be around. Just them.

Still, she’d been living in fear so long. She just wanted to break out of it.

“Maybe. Sure.”

Finn’s smile widened.

“One amaretto sour for the lady,” Chloe sang, coming up on Tallulah’s right, pressing a cold drink into her hand. The blonde’s gaze bounced between Tallulah and Finn, lighting up with interest, and she leaned in close to speak near Tallulah’s ear. “Should I make myself scarce?”

“No.”

“Gotcha. Should he?”

“Uh. Yeah, I think so.”

“Double gotcha.” Chloe hooked her arm through Tallulah’s and stuck her bottom lip out at Finn. “Sorry, babe, I’m stealing her for drunk girl talk.”

“It’s the best kind,” Tallulah tacked on with a tight smile, grateful when Chloe steered her toward the bar. “Thanks. He wasn’t being excessively creepy or anything. I’m just...”

“You don’t have to explain. It’s just a no.”

“You’re right. I don’t have to explain.” They found a sliver of space at the bar and wedged themselves in, propping their elbows on the wood and facing one another. “Maybe I just think a marine biologist named Finn is a little too convenient.”

Chloe’s head fell back on a laugh. “Far too convenient.”

“I used to be way less discriminating with men. So long as they weren’t holding a bloody meat cleaver, I’d consider making out with them.”

“Oh man. I miss making out,” Chloe whined.

“I can help you out with that,” a young man shouted from behind Tallulah.

Chloe waved both hands at him. “Trust me, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. I am a huge problem.”

“What about you?” Tallulah looked over her shoulder to find a backward ball capped frat boy grinning at her. “Need any help making out? I happen to be available.”

“Rain check,” Tallulah responded, facing Chloe again with a scoff, the quick head movement making her vision swim just a tad. Yup. This was definitely her last drink. “You’re not a problem. Why would you say that?”

Tallulah’s friend went up on her toes, craning her neck to see over the top of the crowd toward the club entrance. “Oh, you’ll see.”

“Cryptic.”

Chloe dropped back down. “I’m so glad we did this.” She gripped Tallulah’s arm. “Thank you for not holding my part in the whole seven hundred dollar rent deception against me. If I’d been given more than a few hours to prepare, I would have realized it was a girl code violation.”

“Please, stop apologizing.” Tallulah squinted an eye. “To be honest, it was kind of satisfying to see straight through Burgess’s plan in point eight seconds.”

“Did you rip him a new one?”

“Oh. You bet I did.” Tallulah took a quick sip of her drink and set it down where she could see it, keeping it within the circle of her hand. “Well... not really. But I was very sarcastic.”

“Sarcasm can cut deep. Very deep.”

“Right? I know.”

“People underestimate its power.”

“It occurs to me that we’re a little drunk, Chloe.”

“I’m so drunk.” They shared a laugh. “So you’re officially moved in with Sir Savage?”

“As of today. Yes.”

“What is he like in real life?” Chloe asked after a handful of seconds, her question followed by a mock shiver. “Seriously, he’s so mean looking. I sat behind the bench for all of the home games last season and it’s pretty much just him ripping off his helmet and shouting at everyone. I can’t even hear what he’s saying, and I want to wet my pants.”

Tallulah thought of his earlier invitation to attend the home opener.

Maybe it was best to avoid it.

Although . . .

“I’m still figuring him out, but I can tell you he’s... passionate and yeah, kind of quick-tempered, but also... reasonable? On occasion.” She thought of him in the kitchen, chopping onions and peppers, his forearm flexing with every movement of the knife, allowing himself to be temporarily managed. “I told him I had some doubts about moving in with a man that I don’t know very well and he didn’t treat me like I was overreacting. He loves his daughter, and he isn’t afraid to say it. He’s protective.”

“He’s hot.”

“He is,” Tallulah blurted. “He’s extremely hot.”

“In like a mean Daddy way.”

“I know. I know.” Tallulah drained her drink. “Not that it matters. I work for him.”

“I know, right?” She stage-whispered over the music. “Why does that make it hotter?”

Your call, Tallulah. Had he already issued her an invitation? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about it? “Chloe, you’re a terrible influence.”

“No! I’m not!” She shook the ice in her glass. “It’s the vodka talking.”

“Likely story. Next, you’ll tell me you’re a marine biologist named Finn.”

Chloe spit out her drink onto Tallulah’s shoes, laughing. Tallulah joined her, both of them leaning against the bar for support. Approximately six men jumped to offer them bar napkins, waving little white squares in their faces, which only made them laugh harder.

And that is the exact moment the air changed in the club.

Chloe must have felt the ripple in the air, because the mirth abruptly fled from her pretty features and she went back onto her tiptoes, her chest expanding on a breath at whatever she saw. “Don’t look now, babe,” Chloe said. “But my huge problem is here.”

The words don’t look didn’t fully register with Tallulah, thanks to the alcohol-induced brain fuzz, and she joined Chloe in peering out over the top of the crowd. A man was weaving his way in their direction, a forward-facing ball cap pulled down low on his forehead. Still, that didn’t stop people from turning in his wake with their mouths hanging open. Were they shocked by his height? Because he wasn’t quite as tall as Burgess, but he was within a couple of inches and the width of his shoulders only amplified the size difference between him and everyone else in the club.

“Who is that?”

“That’s Sig. My future stepbrother.”

“The third member of the cheap room rental dark triad? ”

“Yes.” Chloe sighed.

“Sig Gauthier ?” shouted one of the guys offering them a napkin.

“Yes,” Chloe said, louder, finally taking one of the napkins and stooping down to quickly mop the spilled drink off Tallulah’s feet, before Tallulah could tell her not to worry about it. By the time Chloe stood up again, Sig had reached the bar—and he didn’t look happy. At all. His icy glare traveled over the bevy of men surrounding Tallulah and Chloe, growing colder by the second. At least until Chloe said, “Sig!” and threw her arms around his neck.

The hockey player blinked a few times, the ice thawing slightly, before he drew her in with one thick arm. “Time to go, Chloe.”

“I was going to call an Uber.”

“I’m your Uber. Where’s your purse?”

“Ummm. I think I only brought my phone and my debit card.”

“You think ?” He started to brush a hand down the back of Chloe’s head, but stopped before he could complete the action, curling his hand into a fist and stepping away. “This is why I can’t relax when you go out.”

“You can relax, actually. I’m a fully functional adult.”

“I told your mother I would keep an eye on you.” He returned to frowning at the men in the vicinity, clearly not moved by the hero worship they were projecting in his direction. “Obviously she asked for a good reason.”

Chloe’s expression grew shuttered.

Very pointedly, she turned her back on Sig.

He threw up his hands and rolled his eyes.

“Can I get you to autograph this napkin, man?” asked the frat guy behind Tallulah.

“No,” Sig replied, without missing a beat.

Chloe’s lips pressed into a line for a tense second, but she brightened almost just as quickly. “It’s okay.” She smiled sweetly at the frat guy. “I’ll write my number on it, instead.”

Sig snorted and crossed his arms.

Until the guy happily produced a pen, extending it toward Chloe.

The hockey player intercepted it. “Fine, an autograph. You want it personalized?”

While the autograph transaction took place, Chloe gave Tallulah a look of clear exasperation and pointed at Sig. “Huge problem,” she mouthed.

Tallulah was starting to worry the relationship between these future stepsiblings might be an even bigger problem than Chloe seemed to realize, but she was distracted by that thought when Sig finished his autograph and hit her with a scrutinizing glance. “You’re Tallulah?”

“You’re the guy who tried to trick me into renting a room for next to nothing with Chloe?”

He reared back slightly. “Hold up. I’m not the only one.”

“You’re the only one who hasn’t apologized.”

He looked kind of impressed, not that she was trying to impress this man who thought he could barge into the club and order his adult future stepsister around. “Consider this my formal apology, then.”

Tallulah inclined her head. “I’ll let you know when I formally accept.”

Sig’s lips twisted in something that came close to a smile. “You need a ride, too?”

This was fine. Chloe would be there. “Are you going in the direction of Beacon Hill?”

“Not really, but it’s not a problem.” Sig tipped his head toward the exit. “There’s no traffic this time of night.”

She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t accept them going out of their way for her. “I’m going to grab a cab, but thanks for asking.”

“You sure? It would earn me some points with Sir Savage.”

“All the more reason to pass.”

Sig laughed at that, but his mirth came to a quick halt when one of the men at the bar tried to scoot a bar napkin and a pen in front of Chloe while he was distracted.

He picked up the pen and pitched it across the room.

“Let’s go,” he growled, turning Chloe around and ushering her out of the club.

Tallulah laughed into her empty glass and slid it back onto the bar, intending to follow in their wake, but when she turned around again, Finn stood between her and the exit and a frisson of alarm climbed her spine. “Hey,” she blurted, startled. “I’m just about to leave. I’ll see you—”

“I thought we were sharing a cab,” Finn said, boyish half smile in place. Was he standing too close or was she imagining things? “I’d love to talk strategy for our project.”

“We haven’t even been given the assignment yet,” Tallulah pointed out, beginning to get more than a little peeved. Nervous, too, dammit. She couldn’t see Chloe or Sig anymore and suddenly it didn’t feel so good to be surrounded by strangers. Or this classmate who seemed to be overly fixated on her. Desperately, she glanced over Finn’s shoulder, hoping to make eye contact with Tisha or Evan, but they were no longer at the table. “Did everyone leave?”

“Yeah.” He followed her line of sight. “Looks like it’s just you and me.” He held up his phone, shook it a little. “I’ll call an Uber.”

“Actually, my boyfriend is on the way,” she blurted, without flinching. It was unclear what instinct propelled those words out of her mouth, only that she felt better immediately.

This guy was being too pushy. Eager to be alone with her.

It wasn’t her imagination.

Right?

If you get stuck or something happens, you can call me. Two a.m. Whatever.

Burgess. He would come.

Finn’s mouth pressed into a flat line. “I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend.”

“Yes. I do. We... live together. Excuse me.” Tallulah skirted past Finn while looking down at her phone, swiping into her most recent calls. As soon as she was out of earshot, she raised the phone to her ear. Sir Savage answered on the first ring, gruff and alert.

“What happened?”

“Can you come get me? I’ll explain when you—”

“Address.”

“It’s a club called Down.”

“I’ll find it. Are you okay, Tallulah?”

“Yes.”

Something about her tone must have inspired doubt, because a drawn-out pause ensued. “Share your location with me, all right? I’m already in the elevator.”